


Heal

by selflessbellamy



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Half of it is in Nyko's POV, Post: "I can't lose you too.", prompt from tumblr, sick!clarke, worried!bellamy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-21
Updated: 2015-01-21
Packaged: 2018-03-08 12:43:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3209648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selflessbellamy/pseuds/selflessbellamy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt from Tumblr: Clarke is down with a fever and gets worse by the day. Bellamy takes her to The Grounders for help.</p><p>+ Bellarke from Nyko's perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heal

_“I can’t lose you too, okay?”_

Brushing a damp strand of golden hair from her sweaty forehead in order to press the cloth against it, Bellamy nearly regretted leaving camp; ever suppressing that reason she gave him until it was half forgotten, but someway the view of his partner like this made everything come back to him: all of the meaningful words, safety and reassurance she as a princess had brought to his life.

And in the matter of an instant, the knife of understanding painfully stabbed him, the blade ruthlessly carving: _I can’t lose her either_ somewhere within his heart.

“Clarke…” Damn, her name stung his lips, caused his eyes to water and the frustration to grow within him, bringing along its best companions: guilt and powerlessness - that was indeed something that he was way too familiar with… However, that fact did not make it any easier.

“I’m… I’m fine.” To be quite honest it brought nothing but worry to his eyes, the original intension of assurance failing as the weakness of her voice increased.

Despite that, he pulled himself together by giving the hand which was crossed over her abdomen a little squeeze, her skin flamingly hot.

Since their friends’ return, the adults had drowned themselves in more politics than good was instead of actually helping those needing treatment that only the freaking Grounders had.

_If Abby doesn’t sanction a mission soon, I’m going by myself._

* * *

 

Over the course of the week, it got more difficult to gain contact with Clarke - nevertheless Bellamy watched her for another three days until he decided that enough was enough - and she had suffered more than necessary.

He’d watched her cough to the point where she would have thrown up if there had been food in her stomach, caressed her palm to muffle her pained whimpers. Even dried away her angry tears.

_Yes, enough is enough._

Although the sun had sunk, the black sky outside speckled with small, white stars, Bellamy was sitting next to the makeshift bed that she had been laying on for almost two whole weeks - the fever burning in her chest, troubling her breathing.

 _If the adults were so sure that they were beginning to establish peace, then what was the reason to not bring her there?_ Making a quick decision, Bellamy stood up, lifting Clarke in his arms, the worry settling in him, ready to tear him apart in case this would fail. But it was the only way - a risk he was willing to take like the one he had recently taken for their friends - all he needed was a tiny bit more of that wonder called luck.

Yet did he deserve it?

* * *

 

 

Bellamy threw his jacket over her upon stepping out of the tent to simply shelter her from the chilly night air.

Looking around while his brain tried to find the path to Nyko’s tent among the hundred of others, because as the peace plan progressed, some of the grounders were forced to settle closer to the camp.

In the end, he ended up finding O, since she knew the grounder doctor better, and the last thing Bellamy wished was to endanger Clarke even more if he somehow came to say or do something careless. It felt strangely wrong to ask his little sister for help though.

To their luck, Grounders didn’t appear to sleep much, and as the Blake siblings barged into the tent, Nyko was bending over a makeshift table, turning his head immediately, his eyes struck by irritation until they fell on Clarke in Bellamy’s arms, her mouth slightly open but no other things supporting the chance of her still breathing.

Then, finally he walked to them, noticing that in the corner of Bellamy’s eye, was a great form of pleading.

* * *

 

_**Nyko POV:** _

“Nyko, you need to help her.” Octavia said, almost succeeding in not begging. Grounders refused needy people.

The only thing Bellamy could do was nod, a blank expression on his face to mask the internal screaming.

Sighing, “I would if I could,” Nyko glanced at the younger guy, carrying the princess of The Sky People like she was his most prized possession, “I’ll do what I can.” Suddenly, the words changed without him planning it, yet something in that guy seemed to remind Nyko of himself.

\- And he does. He truly does, however he still can’t pinpoint what it is exactly: perhaps the determination.

He uses that as a reason for helping them, despite the grudge.

“Will she be alright?” The Rebel asks under his breath. Without turning his attention, Nyko mutters that time will tell (herbs and fluid can only do so much), and for a second Bellamy acts unsatisfied, but the newly found respect keeps it from consuming him.

The young man holds Clarke’s face in his hands, looks down at her like she is the moon and stars combined when she slowly opens her eyes a little more. He gives her time, dismissing his own impatient eyes.

Then, the first word on her lips emerges as his name: “Bellamy…” And he smiles a little, his fingers softly caressing the skin of her cheek.

 _“I’m here.”_ She says, and he clutches at her hand.


End file.
